


I will not go gentle

by LightInTheVoid



Category: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: Brain's doing his best, Gen, I wanna avoid a pre-planned future says the boy who keeps being handed tools for pre-planned futures, Kingdom Hearts Union Cross, Kingdom Hearts Union X, Luxu is a menace, Tired Boy, did someone ask for heavy-handed ticking clock imagery, spoilers up to the scenes of the Control Room I guess?, virus boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:01:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25062025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LightInTheVoid/pseuds/LightInTheVoid
Summary: (rage, rage against the dying of the light)As Brain desperately searches for a way out of the cage they've become trapped in, a late-night visitor brings unwanted gifts and more questions than answers.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	I will not go gentle

**Author's Note:**

> So, Luxu apparently gifted one of the Union leaders the Master's Keyblade according to one of his Reports, and given that it's looking like Brain will be the one to stay and rebuild Scala ad Caelum... -eyes emoji- I wrote this back in January, when it snowed in Daybreak Town, so we'll see if future story segments prove me wrong hahaha
> 
> Note: Set in the weird liminal space between them all in the control room and the scene where Lauriam comes in five minutes later and is like have you thought of anything?? haha aka. before Brain has read the Book but after they've discovered about the data worlds. Though in this fic's case, I've decided there's at least a day between those two scenes, not five minutes haha

_Tick-tock. Tick-tock._

Up in the Control Room, the clank of machinery was muted to a muffled, rhythmic thumping, overwritten by the faint hum of the screens filling the room. The rest of Daybreak Town was fast asleep; even the other Union leaders had long since taken their leave, save for one lone figure still sitting in front of the main screen, furiously clacking away at the keyboard.

_Tick-tock. Tick-tock._

Without taking his eyes from the screen in front of him, Brain reaches out and fumbles blindly for the next book on the stack beside the keyboard. A similar pile of equal height lays discarded on the other side, neat at the bottom and becoming more haphazard as the stack grows. He hits a few more keys, reading over the code on the screen before he turns his attention to the book in front of him.

“Brain?”

Brain hums in absent acknowledgement, leafing through pages until he finds the section he had bookmarked on his first read-through. It had seemed relevant at the time, but now that he’s reading it again, it’s completely unhelpful to his current mission. The letters on the page swim together, blurring into one big mess. _Much like my research at the moment, actually._ He shuts the book with a noise of frustration, dropping it on the growing discard pile. His hat follows suit, dropped on the console in favour of rubbing tired eyes. It does nothing to stop the code on the screen blurring out. Brain sighs. It’s a long, drawn-out thing that ends with him flopping back into the seat in exhaustion.

At least the seat is comfortable.

“Brain?” the voice from before pipes up again. This time, Brain actually registers the query and turns his head towards the source.

“Mm?”

Chirithy perks up, now that Brain is finally paying attention. He offers Chirithy an apologetic smile as the little creature bounds over. It’s hard to muster up the energy though, and he must miss the mark completely because instead of looking reassured, his partner peers up at him worriedly.

“You look awful,” Chirithy tells him; Brain snorts in amusement. “I’m serious! You need to sleep, Brain. You've been working on this for hours, go to bed. You can look at this in the morning.”

Brain sighs, leaning down to pick Chirithy up and plonk the Spirit in his lap. “I can’t,” he says gently, waving a hand vaguely towards the books and the computer before them both. “I have to figure this out." He reaches out to scratch fingers through the fur on Chirithy’s head under the hat.

As always, it’s incredibly soft, and for a moment he entertains the tired thought of just laying his head down atop Chirithy’s head like the world’s comfiest pillow. Chirithy would probably let him. Shaking off the ridiculous idea, he rallies every drop of energy remaining in him to give the Spirit a more reassuring smile than his first attempt. “I’m fine,” he continues. “Don’t you worry about me.”

Chirithy stares up at him shrewdly from under the brim of his hat. “You’re not fine, though.” Brain wonders if his Chirithy is more perceptive than most, or if he really just looks that awful. Given that this is yet another repeat of the same conversation they’ve had over many nights, his best hypothesis is just that he’s become exceptionally predictable. Which isn’t good, _predictable_ won’t get them free of this data wor–

_Bzzzzshhhhhh._

The world shudders. Everything shifts out of alignment and for a moment the Control Room around Brain is a myriad of unnatural colours and static. It takes Brain a slow second to realise that it’s _not_ being caused by his exhaustion and in that second, the glitch sweeps through them as well.

Brain clings to Chirithy, breath hitching and eyes squeezing shut at the feeling of his very atoms pulling apart and collapsing back together in the same instant. He can feel Chirithy clutching at him just as tightly. They huddle together as the glitch washes over them again before gradually fading away.

He shudders, trying to rid himself of the phantom feeling, before pulling back to smile shakily at Chirithy. “Just as well everyone else was asleep for that one, wouldn’t you say?” Chirithy nods, still curled up against him as he fishes in a coat pocket for his personal notebook. He’s thankful for that; the warmth of the Spirit helps ground him as well. _At least the glitch woke me up._

One-handedly, Brain jots down the date and time on the page where he’s been keeping track of the glitches. He runs an eye over the list, frowning as he does the mental maths and finds a displeasing result.

“They’re starting to happen closer together,” he announces. _And they’re getting stronger, too_ , he adds mentally, not wanting to worry his companion too much. It doesn’t matter; he can see that Chirithy clearly understands what he didn’t say anyway. Ven had brought them up at their last union meeting, and if _Ven_ of all people had noticed it…. it clearly didn’t take a genius to figure out that the glitches were starting to affect people as well, not just the world around them.

_Tick-tock. Tick-tock_.

He taps his pencil against the paper thoughtfully, mind whirling in a hundred different directions – he needed to stabilise this world better, maybe get one of the others to look into how it was affecting everyone else in the world. Had any of the regular Dandelions started to figure out what was happening? What would they do if they did? How much time did they have left in this world, exactly?

A light tap to his cheek breaks him out of his thoughts, and he offers Chirithy his third smile of the night, a wan but determined thing. “This is why I can’t afford to take breaks, Chirithy,” he murmurs. “Sleep’s not important compared to figuring out how to get everyone out of here.”

Chirithy slumps, misery in every line of their small body. “You can’t help anyone if you faint from lack of sleep,” the Spirit grumbles, arms crossed, but without much force. It’s not like Brain’s wrong, after all.

Still, the sight of his companion so forlorn makes Brain relent. He sighs. “I’ll take a break in a bit, alright?” Chirithy perks up, looking at him hopefully. _Ah, why not._ He puts a hand over his heart. “I promise.”

“You’d better! I’ll hold you to that!” Chirithy says happily, bounding to their feet. Brain laughs, petting the Spirit’s head.

“Before that though, I have a job for you,” Brain says seriously, hiding a small smile as Chirithy snaps to attention. “Can you check over the clocktower for damage? None of the glitches have done permanent damage yet, but there’s no reason to keep assuming it will stay that way.” It’s a small worry that has been nagging at him ever since the first glitch had occurred. Glitches eventually corrupted data, after all. What would they do if one corrupted a _person–?_

“Geez, the whole clocktower?” Chirithy asks, crossing their arms. "That's a lotta work." Despite the Spirit's words, Chirithy jumps down from his lap and looks back up at him. Brain leans over the arm of the seat.

“Yeah, I know. Thanks, Chirithy. We can ask the others to check around the rest of town tomorrow.” A thought occurs to him. “When you’re finished, come and get me and I promise that I will go and rest for a few hours.” Or else he really will be here all night. Already he can feel a protest in the back of his mind at losing any time to sleep at all, but rationally, getting some rest will help him process information better.

Plus, he isn’t one to break promises, especially to his friends.

_Tick-tock._

Chirithy bounds off, already muttering to themselves about likely areas to check first. Brain waits until even the echo of the small Spirit’s voice has faded from hearing before he flops backwards and groans his frustrations to the empty room. He scrubs hands over his face, exhausted to his bones. A peek through his fingers reveals the same code and messy piles of books as before, and no sign of a miraculous discovery.

“As if the answer would fall into my lap so easily,” Brain grumbles quietly, tipping his head up to gaze at the ceiling.

He hadn’t made his declaration to the rest of the group based on anything but his own determination to fix things. Once Ephemer and his friend had brought back confirmation that this wasn’t their world but a digital copy that they were stranded in, he had stepped up his research, trying to find a way that would allow all of the Dandelions to escape safely back to reality. It was up to him; he sees the hesitance and confusion in his fellow Union leaders’ eyes whenever he tries to explain what he thinks is happening. Brain can’t blame them; after all, he’s consumed nearly every scrap of information in the Tower that he could get his hands on, and even _he_ has a hard time trying to understand everything.

No, it has to be him. Everyone in Daybreak Town is counting on him to figure this out.

His gaze darts down to his coat, where the Book of Prophecies is tucked away into an inner pocket. It’s the safest place he can think of to hide it from prying eyes. _Master Ava said I’d know when it was the right time… maybe that time is coming sooner than I thought._

_Tick-tock. Tick-tock._

“Wow, you look really stressed! That can’t be good for your health!”

The sound of an unknown voice, in a room that only a few people have permission to enter, has Brain bolting up out of his chair, all tiredness forgotten. He snatches his hat from the keyboard and spins to face the intruder.

They – whoever they are – are dressed head to toe in a black coat with the hood up, shrouding their face in shadow. Brain narrows his eyes as he studies the intruder. His Keyblade hovers on the edge of his mind, but Brain doesn’t summon it. He’s faster with magic than physical skill with the Keyblade, and besides, he’d rather get his answers with questions rather than by force. Not to mention that the Control Room can only be opened with a Keyblade – specifically, those of the Union leaders, though that’s not something he’s been able to test – so it follows that the new arrival must also have access to a Keyblade, potentially a high-level one to override the locks.

Strangely, the intruder doesn’t make any move to attack him. On the contrary, they hold up their hands as if in surrender, though there is a casualness to the action that implies they don’t perceive Brain as a threat. It rankles, but that doesn’t mean he won’t take advantage of it.

“Who are you?” he asks, deliberately settling into a more casual stance. "I don't remember letting you in."

"Nah, I came in by myself," the intruder says absently, looking around the room with interest. It's not at all subtle, and yet Brain is fairly sure that the intruder actually knows the room pretty well, judging by the things they chose to look at. The figure picks a book up from one of the many stacks perched around the room, idly reading the cover. "Interesting choice of decoration."

"Thanks," Brain replies dryly. "I picked them out myself."

"Oh, _you're_ the one reading all these? No wonder you look so tired." Brain suppresses a sigh; _do I really look that bad?_

The figure puts down one book in exchange for another. Not a good one, if the snort is anything to judge by. That's probably why it's in one of the piles he'd labelled 'unhelpful'.

"So, who are you?" he tries again, before a third book can be examined. This time, he manages to get an answer. One he's also labelling 'unhelpful'.

“Me?” the figure asks, turning to face him. Their arms sweep out in a grand gesture. “Why, I’m the Sixth Foreteller, of course!”

“The Sixth Foreteller,” Brain repeats incredulously, folding his arms. “That’s interesting, seeing how there were only five of them.”

The intruder sighs. “True, true, I guess I’m not a _Foreteller_ , per se… never got to read the Book of Prophecies myself, though I can see you’ve been deemed the prize winner! Congratulations!”

Brain can’t help flinching back, knows that by doing so he’s all but confirmed he has a copy for this unknown person. _Is that what they’re after? The Book?_ “Who are you?” he demands again, frustration making his words sharper than intended. _Get a grip, Brain!_

“I may not be a Foreteller, but the Master had six apprentices, y’know? Though it seems everyone’s gone and forgotten me already.”

Six apprentices. Not a Foreteller. The same robes that the Master of Masters used to wear. A vague memory clicked over in his mind. Of a shadow, walking with the Master through town. Yes, there _had_ been six apprentices, hadn’t there? But the sixth had been so quiet, no-one had even noticed them disappear amongst the growing tension between the Unions. What had his name been again? “…Luxu? _You’re_ Master Luxu?”

“You _are_ the smart one!” the so-called Master Luxu exclaims, pointing at him triumphantly. “Yep, that’s me. Luxu’s the name.”

“All I’ve got is your word for that,” Brain points out sceptically. “How do I know whether it’s the truth?”

Luxu snorts. A flippant hand waves the question away. “Wow, a suspicious one too. Believe me, or don’t believe me, it’s up to you.”

Brain’s not sure he _does_ believe him, but he still might get information out of this. “Hmph. Then where have you been? How did you even cross over into this data world? You didn’t come with the Dandelions. Everyone else was in the war… so you didn’t take part in the war…? But the world was to be destroyed and rebuilt, it’s why we fled in the first place…”

Slow clapping cuts cross his line of thought, tangling the threads he had just started to weave. “Haha! Well done! I can see why they chose you. The answer to your question, my friend is… Spoilers. Sorry. Can’t tell you.” The robed figure punctuates his words with the most insincere shrug of apology Brain has ever seen.

_Just what is this guy playing at?_ “Great. Thanks.”

“But!” Luxu continues, leaning against a nearby console. “To answer your other question, I’ve been watching.”

This sounded more promising. “Watching?”

“Yep! That was my role. ‘Watch the events of the world come to pass’, like the Master wanted.” Brain perks up. Finally, information that he might be able to use! _He’s not read the Book, or so he says, but if he’s been ‘watching’ like he said then he might have witnessed the crossover to this world… The fact that he’s here, despite not being a Dandelion, backs that up. If I could get him to tell me, I might be able to reverse engineer the process!_

Although the hood prevents him from seeing Luxu’s face, it’s impossible to miss the weight of the considering gaze directed his way. “I’ve been watching you, too.”

Brain startles. “Me? What for?”

Luxu chuckles. “Because I’ve decided that you’re the lucky winner of a second prize! Congrats!” He raises an arm and Brain tenses immediately, a shield spell at the ready in the palm of his hand. No attack comes, however; just a Keyblade flashing to life in Luxu’s outstretched hand.

“A Keyblade?” It’s unlike any Keyblade that Brain has ever seen before, and he finds himself drawing closer despite his caution. Luxu holds it out in an offering as he approaches. As though in a trance, Brain accepts, one hand curling around the hilt as the other supports the blade.

It’s a hefty weight, dark and solid and spiky where thorns wrap around the guard. Fascinated, Brain looks it over. The stylised goat’s head beget twin blades that came together in an axe-shaped spike at the top, so different to his own Keyblade. And at the top, inlaid with a bright blue eye with a slit pupil that Brain can’t help but stare at. It almost feels like the Keyblade is staring _back_.

“Not just any Keyblade!” The playful tone is finally gone from Luxu’s voice. The switch is startling enough that Brain manages to tear his gaze away from the Eye and focus on the other man. _This, then, is his real reason for coming here?_

Luxu taps the Keyblade. “The Master made this Gazing Eye specifically to keep an eye – haha! – on history. It records it, and relays it all back to him, all of which got written down into the Book of Prophecies you have there.”

Brain stares at him with wide eyes, before looking down at the Keyblade in his hands. _For it to be the catalyst of recording the events of the future…_

But the Book of Prophecies had already been written; shared out to the Foretellers to follow the Master’s will. But if it was based on the events that this Keyblade would record, then…

_Tick-tock._

Much like the rulebook the Union leaders had been given; pre-planned rules to follow. But were the rules really the rules, or were they merely guidelines? If the events that the Master had written down were really from this Keyblade, then what about everything that happened outside of the Eye’s sight?

_Tick-tock._

“Well, I see you understand,” Luxu says. “I’m getting old and tired, and things are starting to get interesting, so I’ve decided to pass No Name on to you so that it has a front row seat to events!”

“What?!”

Luxu ignores him. “A word of advice, though!” A finger wags disapprovingly in his face. “This Keyblade has already seen the future, so don’t go trying to mess it up! All you have to do is watch what’s gonna go down, and pass it along, and the Keyblade will take care of the rest. After all, if it’s already written in the Book then it’s guaranteed to happen! There’s nothing to do _but_ watch.”

Brain grits his teeth. _Is that really true? Is everything I’m trying to do – every rule I’m trying to break – every person I’m trying to save – is it all pointless because it’s not what is written? I don’t want to believe that. I can’t believe that. But…_

He glances over his shoulder, at the piles and piles of books stacked haphazardly around the computer. So much time and effort spent and so little to show for it. _What if things are meant to be this way? Have I just been fooling myself this whole time?_

_‘If something is written in the Book of Prophecies, that doesn’t mean you wouldn’t be able to change it.’_ Master Ava’s words, so long ago on that hilltop, float back to him. _‘I think that the fact we don’t know proves there’s a future that’s not planned for, don’t you?’_

_She’s right._

_Maybe she was only saying it to be kind, but I’m not wrong._

He turns back, ignoring the Gazing Eye to look Luxu straight in the face. “No, I don’t believe in that. To watch – that was _your_ role, correct?”

The other man studies him appraisingly, all playfulness completely absent. “Yep.”

“Then I refuse.” Brain shoves the Keyblade back towards Luxu. The robed man makes no attempt to take it from him, instead cocking his head in confusion.

“What?”

“I don’t want it,” Brain repeats firmly, lifting the Gazing Eye slightly to emphasise his words. “A life that’s pre-written isn’t a life at all. I already _have_ a role, a self-made one. _I will become the virus that’s gonna re-write this world_ … no matter how much work it takes.” Luxu twitches. Irritation or surprise at being refused, Brain doesn’t know, and it doesn’t matter. “If taking this Keyblade – the Master of Masters’ Keyblade – means I have to just sit back and watch, when I could be acting instead, then I don’t want it. Give it to someone else.”

He tries to give the Keyblade back to Luxu, but the other man still refuses to take it. Far beneath their feet, the clocktower starts to chime, the muffled _bong-bong-bong_ vibrating the floor. Neither of them move, staring at each other in stubborn silence as the clock chimes around them.

Finally, as the chimes fade away, Luxu sighs. “Your mind’s made up then, Mr Virus?”

Brain nods. “Yeah.” _I don’t break my promises._

Luxu shrugs, hands sweeping out to either side. “Okay, have it your way then.” He reaches out for the Keyblade but stops halfway, fingers resting against the goat head. After a moment’s hesitation, Luxu pushes the Keyblade back towards Brain and steps back. “You should hold onto it though… just in case you change your mind.”

“I _said_ , I don’t –” Brain retorts, patience fraying, but Luxu is already dancing backward.

“Well then, ciao!”

“Hey, wait –” Brain darts forward, trying to snatch at the black robe. _Take it back!_

Luxu is surprisingly fast, however, and slips out of reach before Brain can even make a few steps. The not-Foreteller turns at the door and waves mockingly. “May your heart be your guiding key!” he calls, before he slips out the door and out of sight. By the time Brain reaches the door and peers out into the main room, only the echo of Luxu’s parting words remain. There’s no sign of the man himself.

It’s odd, though. _The elevator’s still here… there’s no other rooms on this level and the elevator is the only way up or down. Where did he go?_ _Did I just imagine the whole thing?_

The heavy weight of the Keyblade still in his hand unfortunately proves otherwise. “I wish you _were_ a hallucination,” he grumbles at it, stepping back inside the Control Room. Like the Book of Prophecies, it’s a symbol of a role he doesn’t want and has no intentions of playing out meekly.

_Speaking of…_

Brain reaches into his coat, pulling out the thick tome of the Book of Prophecies and weighing it in his hand. “I suppose it’s almost time to read you then. Between _this_ ,” a shake of the Keyblade, “and Lauriam’s descriptions of his sister’s activities… I thought I had received Master Ava’s message loud and clear but… Guess I won’t know for sure until I read it properly.” He looks over at the piles of books at the computer again and sighs. “Hopefully there’s information I can use in there.”

He tucks the Book back in its hiding place to read later, when he is less tired. Then Brain lifts the Keyblade again, studying it more closely than he had before. “What am I supposed to do with you? I have no intention of sitting idly by to history. The Master of Masters… I’m starting to wonder just exactly what he hoped to achieve with all this.”

Willing away the Keyblade like he would with his own fails, even after a few tries. It stays stubbornly in his hand and refuses to go. The Eye gleams at him almost smugly when he glares at it, although if he’s assigning emotions to Keyblades then Chirithy is definitely right about him needing to sleep. He scrubs a hand across his face in weary frustration. “Alright. Fine.” Brain casts his gaze around the room, and finding nothing else suitable, shrugs off his coat instead. “If it’s recording the future…” he mutters, starting to wrap his coat around the Keyblade securely until it is covered entirely, “then I’ll just have to blind it.”

Studying his handiwork, Brain makes a face. He’ll have to find something better to cover it with tomorrow – he likes that coat – and somewhere safe to store it. _Should I tell the others about it?_ he wonders, staring down at the wrapped bundle in his hands. _I wasn’t sworn to secrecy about it like I was with the Book, but somehow that feels like I’d be playing right into what Luxu wants. Which is – what? To play the role I was given? The others seem fine with doing that, but it won’t get us anywhere, just blindly following roles. Master Ava said the Master of Masters chose me, of all people – and gave me the Book of Prophecies – that has to mean something. It doesn’t make sense otherwise to have picked someone who doesn’t operate on blind faith._

_It’ll be hard to explain why I’d rather throw this Keyblade down a well, too._

_A problem to resolve later_ , he decides upon his next realisation that he’s been standing and staring at the hidden Keyblade for the past several minutes. He shoves his bundled coat behind a wall of books and drops back into the computer chair, staring up at the screen again.

_[ t i c k –––––––– ]_

“I can do this,” he mutters to himself, mouth set in a grim line. _I will figure out what’s going on, and I will fix this. I will get us back to our world, whether that’s written in the Book or not. I will rewrite this world, I will rewrite_ _the future, I will rewrite the Book if I must!_

His fingers dance over the keys again, faltering only at the realisation that he can now sense that Gazing Eye hovering on the edge of his thoughts. Waiting. Watching.

_I will save us._

.

.

.

.

.

_[ ----------- t o c k ]_

**Author's Note:**

> This poor boy though, literally everyone is counting on him to solve this mess, someone please help him, he’s taken on too much responsibility :(((
> 
> Brain got Ava's message of 'let's change the future' and he's holding to that, as opposed to Luxu's 'you can't do anything to change it' which is why he..... really isn't happy to have been given this burden of a Keyblade haha Also, Luxu is a menace and I'm sorry dude I have no idea what your actual personality is at the moment because even the Luxu that Ava talks to is wildly different to pre-Watching Luxu and also Xigbar... though I feel like he's sort of adopted MoM's way of acting here, like a chameleon.
> 
> Anyway thank you for reading, hope you all enjoyed! Sorry for this fic being kinda depressing but my next work will be a fluff series called Brain Is Actually Very Soft At Heart (title not accurate) hahaha


End file.
